Endurance
by italianmagician
Summary: 'They started out being friends when they were little kids. Their mothers were both in a gardening club, and became good friends between Latin heritage and taste in flowers and food. So Manuel and Antonio both ended up being dragged along to such a lady thing, and stuck as the only two four-year old young men, thank you, not boys, they bonded together." Spamex. Rate may go up.
1. Introduction

They started out being friends when they were little kids. Their mothers were both in a gardening club, and became good friends between their Latin heritage and taste in flowers and food. So Manuel and Antonio both ended up being dragged along to such a lady thing, and stuck as the only two four-year old young men, thank you, not boys, they bonded together. This is what young kids do- They find someone stuck in the same dull, bland, and absolutely drop-dead boring situation as them, and as they're young, become great friends.

Manuel and Antonio, mighty and invincible gods! They ruled over the snails and ants and roly-poly bugs, and especially the worms. Oh, how the worms were favored. They'd find sticks, as smooth as they could get, and they'd stick them in the ground. When they'd done that, they would wiggle the stick until worms started to come close, drawn to the vibrations. Antonio was usually the one who ran inside to get the Glad container from dear old Mrs. Martinez, and Manuel would pick up the slimy little critters and drop them in the container. They tried to keep them, take them home sometimes, but they never survived. So they waited for girls to show up, then scared the girls with the worms.

Manuel and Antonio, mighty and terrifying cootie-scare-away-ers! This was the best thing ever, but then, every Tuesday was the best thing ever.

Time passed. Antonio turned four, and then became the higher mighty and powerful god, since he was older anyway. Manuel became the follower, always going with Antonio's plans, and Antonio was a good god, going along with Manuel's less-frequently voiced plans, but they were great plans. Very few things ever went wrong with Manuel's plans, whereas Antonio's tended to fall flat about halfway through as one or both lost interest.

That year, Manuel's father fell ill, so he got to see Antonio less. But they still had grand times when they were together, becoming friends with Manuel's papa's doctor and nurses, all of which enjoyed the bright personality of the two boys. The nurses began to think the two, with their messy brown hair and shining eyes and tendency to be on the same page absolutely all the time, were brothers. The boys took it to heart, and started to call each other _hermano. _ Of course, Antonio did have a brother, but he was only a baby and no fun to play with at all. All Ricardo did was cry and poop and eat and sleep, and where was the fun in that? Nowhere, that's where.

Around September, Manuel's mamma became very sad, and they had to go to a church service. Manuel was confused, because there was a lot less people than usual, and besides, this was Tuesday. He was very sure this was Tuesday, but Manuel couldn't persuade his mother that they were supposed to go to the garden club. Maybe she had quit, but that didn't explain why Papa was in the wooden box up in the front and why people were crying. He wanted to talk to Papa, but nobody would let him, so he began to cry, too. He liked Papa, and nobody would let him talk to his own Papa. Even his mother wouldn't, and when they went home later in the day, she just held Manuel close and cried, not willing to let him go.

So Manuel didn't fight it, trying to keep his mama from crying.

Manuel and his mother moved away, to a different house, later that week. It was much smaller, and they shared it with his grandparents. He liked living with his grandparents, and spent a lot of time with his grandpapa. He was a funny old man, and took Manuel out to the beach a lot. He told stories to Manuel of a long time ago, when he was the age of the younger, himself. His favorite thing to say was "When I was a young little man like you, I had a lady on both arms and all my friends followed me around. Why don't you have a lady yet, _pequeño?" _ And then he would laugh, this loud, soulful laugh, and Manuel would have to grin brilliantly, climbing into his grandpapa's lap for a story.

The house was a nice place, and it was still near where they lived before. Mama spent time with Abuelita, but they still had Tuesdays. Soon after they moved in, they started walking to garden club, and Antonio and Manuel spent time together again, as brothers. Manuel and Antonio started to have sleepovers, and Antonio's papa would call him _hijo. _ It wasn't the same as his own Papa calling him _hijo_, but a man who was shipped to Heaven in a box without a stamp couldn't really call him _hijo _ very well at all, now could he?

Years passed.

Antonio and Manuel, the mighty and powerful cootie-chase-away-ers, became Antonio and Manuel, the mighty and powerful ladies' men through elementary and middle school. Manuel came to understand that his father had died, not been shipped off to Timbuktu, wherever that was, anyways. Did people really know? That, he wasn't sure of still. But it didn't matter.

Antonio and Manuel, the ladies' men, soccer-playing, talented, competitive brothers from different mothers. They practiced after school, all summer, moving from team to competitive team.

And then high school happened.


	2. Chapter One

Manuel stood at five and a half feet, with Antonio at five-eight, and they'd grown up differently, with different body types. Both were nice and lean and fit, both earned shrieks when girls saw them changing their t-shirts to their soccer jerseys on the field, and both had A's in all their classes. That was a requirement, you see, but that was a minor thing.

Manuel was still six months younger than Antonio, and Manny was still the quieter of the two.

But Manuel had a temper, and Antonio was a doofus.

See, in high school, things change. Things change more than anytime else in one's life. And for the mighty and powerful Manuel and Antonio, there was no exception. The boys were friends for so, so long. Eleven years is an incredibly long time, but there's a point that has to be reached someday.

It happened on the day the final results for the soccer tryouts were posted. It wasn't entirely the fault of that, there must have been a gap growing between the boys for a while, now.

Manuel Sanchez didn't make the soccer team. Antonio Hernandez did.

Anyone who watched the pair could tell that the pair was evenly skilled, and Manuel was absolutely furious. Whoever that coach was, was a complete asshole. The minute he realized he wasn't on the list, he turned on his heel and walked out of the building to the parking lot of the school. He knew people had seen, but currently, he didn't care. It was humiliating. Sitting on the brick wall at the side of the school, he dumped his backpack and swung his legs over the edge, but didn't jump. Of course he could jump, but Mama would be so disappointed in him.

"_Hermano!_" Of course Antonio would come chase after him. Manuel didn't reply, fishing for his MP3 player in his pocket. "Manny, come down off that thing, why are you even so moody today?" So it was true. Manuel had become rather moody as of late, but this morning was downright awful. He'd had to peel two fighting cats apart under his window at around three, then wake up a half hour later to bike to the news agency a couple miles from his home, then make his run delivering in record time, as he'd woken late. No breakfast, which was a necessary thing for him in order to not be moody, late to work, almost late to school, this was awful. Then he hadn't even made the team according to some bullshit coach who didn't even know what a good player was if they would shove a cleat up the man's ass.

Did he think that out loud? It would seem so, because Antonio sighed. "I'm sorry for your misfortune, but I don't understand why it's so bad? There's always next year, and besides, you could go with the regional team! You know, the really high-level one, which I didn't make?"

"If I didn't even make the school one, but you did, I really doubt I'm going to make the elite team, man." Manuel rolled his eyes. "I want to know what kind of bullshit call that is, though." Antonio winced behind Manuel at his language. His mama would scold him, if he swore. "Because, anyone who's watched us play knows that we're equal. Sure, you might be a tiny bit better than me, but not enough to put that dumb Vargas kid- No, both the Vargas brothers, in front of me. I bet they bribed the coach. Their dad's rich, you know."

Antonio pulled himself up onto the wall with Manuel. "Manny, you're blaming other people for your problems again. I doubt they bribed the guy, and even if they did, what can we do about it?" The Spanish teenager's voice was doubtful. "I mean, I guess I can quit, but honestly... If they did that, it would just make them happier, right?"

"Don't quit." Manuel grumbled under his breath. "I'll try for the damn elites. But we both know that I won't make it." Jumping off the wall back onto the campus, Manuel picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and sulking to homeroom, followed by a rather somber-looking Antonio.

Homeroom was charged with irritation by Manny, and a meek Antonio didn't laugh nearly as much as usual, sinking down in his chair and his usually bright office-green eyes were dull, focused on the fake wooden table.

School was quiet, compared to normal. It was like the entire student body knew there was a problem with the two boys, and the girls fawned over Antonio. Manuel ate nearly by himself, only joined by an extra girl who he'd learned to deal with named Catalina Verardi, matched temper for temper with her. She only asked what was up once, but dropped it soon enough, depositing the school's disgusting sushi in the trash, tossing the jumbo cookie from the Subway line in his hood. Giving his shoulder a pat, she smiled lightly as he looked up, still absolutely irate, but told him she'd meet him after school at the coffee shop down the street and then left.

Manuel had to hate some things.

He went through the remaining two periods of the day, struggling to focus on the physics teacher, and even harder to the math teacher, as the math teacher was the soccer coach. He kept his mouth shut, teeth grit together, and he found his friend Martin giving him a nudge with his shoulder, writing down the answer to one of the problems on his paper. He smiled halfheartedly in gratitude, ignoring most everything but the clock.

"Sanchez, have you got a date with the clock or something?" The sweet, agitating voice of the woman made him want to cringe.

"No, ma'am." he muttered, trying not to glare at the teacher. "I have a date with a soccer team I failed to make."

The teacher froze, and then frowned at him, narrowing her eyes. "Are you disrespecting me, Sanchez?"

"I think that might be what it's called when it's unjust."

"Manny, stop," Martin hissed. "Your mom-"

"To hell with that, this is flat out bullshit!" Manuel snapped, slamming his fist onto the desk. Martin sat back and shut his mouth. Since Manuel wasn't going to listen to him, he may as well make sure he didn't miss anything. Most of the class was staring at him, in expressions from shock and surprise to approval and encouragement.

"Manuel Sanchez. Go to ISS right now. This is disappointing." But Manny wasn't going to take any of this. Standing up, he grabbed his back. "I would have thought you would take this much better. You have to grow up sometime."

"Don't you dare tell me to grow up, woman. You need to stop being such an idiot. I'm not coming back." Snatching up his papers and pencil, he shoved the pencil in his pocket and crumpled up the paper, throwing it bluntly straight past the teacher's head and landing it straight in the bin. "You're not my mother. You're disgusting, thinking nobody notices you being such an asshole and taking bribes. Don't think nobody knows about your lunchtime shenanigans." And he stormed past the teacher and out the door, leaving the teacher in shock and a classroom cheering.

So the boy walked straight out the door, down the stairs, out the door again, and across the campus to the main office's door, exiting that, too. He could hear the applause still as the window of the classroom was open, carrying across the still air of the school. His anger was definitely not done, though. This was just the start.

He walked to the coffee shop, not willing to go home. There were only about fifteen minutes until school would end. Fishing his phone from his pocket, he deliberated a moment, then shot a text:

Text: Cata: **  
**So I'm waiting. Usual?

Manny didn't have to wait long for the reply, to no surprise. Catalina was an upperclassman, a junior. She frequently thought that he was a sophomore or a junior, too, though, so texted him while he was in classes and she wasn't, on her way to the college for her early-college program. She must have just gotten back to the school, he realized, seeing the bus leaving the campus.

Incoming Text From: Cata  
did you really chew her out? and no, i don't really want a drink today unless you're offering to buy me a lot of water. (:

Manny grumbled quietly to himself, heading inside and buying the biggest bottle of water the shop had, and no, wait, two of them, please, and two of those pastries, there, please. After paying, he sat down at the higher table by the window, the one just for two with the really high stools. Dropping his backpack under his feet, he sat down, resting his cheek on his hand and glancing down the street before replying.

Text: Cata:  
Yeah, I did. I don't regret a thing. Can you hurry up? She probably called my mom.

There was a longer pause, and he heard the bell ring, that dumb four-ping bell that sounded like it was trying to be Big Ben but doing an awful job at it. Still no reply, and he frowned at his phone, getting a little worried as the buses started to pass, full of kids. Some people were walking down the street, but none noticed him in the window.

Incoming Text From: Cata  
no, she called me. manny, when did you set me as your emergency contact? why would you do that, that's creepy as hell. that's creepier than alice's boyfriend.

He could see her coming down the street, bangs covering her face as she fought them to hold still as the buses passed her, creating a draft of wind as they went by.

What a dork. That was his thought, but he gave a sheepish little smile as she walked in the door, throwing an irritated look at him. "Do you have any idea how awkward it is to talk to the principal and pretend I'm your aunt by some really dumb way?"

Manny grinned. "Was it awkward? How'd it go?" She deposited her stuff on the floor at the feet of the chair, sitting down across from him and taking one of the bottles of water.

"Absolutely awful, but congrats, I'm your aunt that was raised in Italy away from your mama because she was insane and married an American. Does this mean I get to call you _nipote _ now?" she pursed her lips a bit, fussing with her hair again. "You owe me a lot, kid."

Manny laughed. "Sorry, Cata. I did that so my mom wouldn't get stressed out if something happened, you know what I mean?"

"Something like this, you mean." Her tone turned serious. "Manny, you can't just do that. She's raving mad, she says you called her a whore and a whole lot of things I've never heard come out of your mouth. What happened, really? Martin sent a text to like, fifty people, but it was a lot of paraphrasing, so who knows what it's going to be by tomorrow?"

Manuel looked to the window. "I'll just not come, tomorrow. I'll get Mama to switch me to a different school." Cata shook her head. "What? She'll do it. I'll make Nana talk her into it. She'll understand."

"Manny, that's being chicken, isn't it?" He looked back at her. She looked sympathetic, and he realized she must have looked at the chart that said who made it and who hadn't. She had to know exactly what it was that had him so touchy today. "It must have been really bad. Are you going to try for a different team?"

"No."

"Antonio said you said you'd try for the elites."

"I lied."

"I'm on the elites."

He looked up, as his gaze had dropped to her hands. "Since when are you on the elites?" This was news. He'd known that she played soccer, but not what team or where or how long.

"Have you really not noticed me wear my jersey to school?" she asked incredulously. "I'd think that Verardi on the back of half my clothes is pretty hard to miss. Jeez, Manny." She was right- He'd not really paid attention to her as of late. No, not as much attention to her since around sixth grade, when she was this cool upperclassman and oh wait, she still was. But now he felt guilty, since she was this super cool, actually attractive and nice and not a "popular girl" bitch like half the other girls on the campus.

"Sorry, Cata." She shook her head, and he sank down a bit in his seat, picking up his pastry and nibbling at it, not very hungry. "I've been an asshole today."

"So I noticed," she drawled. "Hey, tell you what. How about, you come and watch practice tonight? I can take you there, and you can call your family and say "oh hey, I've got a soccer date, catch you later maybe tomorrow"." She grinned. "We're having a party after, for the beginning of the season, and I don't mind bringing some little old runt like you who got shortchanged by a prostitute."

Manny smiled weakly. "You have awful language, for a lady."

Cata grinned. "So you've said. But I hear you're worse, today. What do you say?"

"I guess I'm in."

And that was it.


	3. Chapter Two

Cata and Manuel were on their way soon enough, walking back to the school, where the girl's shiny new Mustang she'd worked so hard to earn was parked. Manuel had to admit, he wasn't just a little envious of the sleek little car, and it hurt him inside that he couldn't have such a nice car, himself, even if he wasn't legal to drive.

It was all the same, though, as he called Nana and explained he'd not be home for dinner, going with Cata's "I've got a soccer date" excuse. Nana, of course, was thrilled, thinking it was an actual date and not a friend date, and quickly excused him, and Manuel could hear her speaking excitedly to someone there on the other end before he cut the call. They'd be so disappointed when he clarified later.

Catalina started the car as they got settled in, rolling down the cover of the car. "The only thing that I don't like about this car is the AC doesn't work yet. My cousin's going to fix it for me, though," she hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and turning north, towards the field where the soccer team she played on practiced. "But it's not too hot today, so I think we'll be okay. Besides, we've got cold water right here." She flashed a grin to the Mexican, and he grinned back, actually quite relaxed and not as moody as before. Funny how it worked, that certain people, even if they're usually high-strung, can calm a guy down.

Very interesting, really. Hm. Manuel shrugged the thought off, resting his arm on the edge of the door. "So really, how long have you been on the elites?" he asked, curious. "Because I really didn't notice that, sorry."

The Italian girl hummed thoughtfully, tapping the wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. "Ah... This is my... Third or fourth season, so since seventh grade or so?" He gaped at her for a moment, then coughed and looked to the side. "What?"

"That's a long time. Wow. What position?"

"Fullback, usually." She hummed, turning onto the highway. "I don't like playing much else. But once in a while Coach makes me play forward or halfback. Says I need it. I'm a pretty good goalie, too, but that's Diego. He doesn't like to run so much, but we'd be doomed if he weren't being goalie."

Manuel nodded, familiar with the name of the goalie. "I see. I usually like playing forward or goalie, but I'm not good at the others." Catalina nodded understandingly. "I'd show you, but it's not like I'm going to play." He laughed.

"Mmm... Sanchez, if you jinx practice, I'm gonna kill you, you little ass."

Manny grinned. "I'll try not to, Verardi."

"Grazie."

"De nada."

There was no more discussion until they reached the nice field where the team practiced, complete with bleachers and goals and wow, look at that, players. Catalina picked up a duffel bag from the floor of the car and her water, having given the pastry to Manuel to eat after he finished his own. Manny followed, taking a spot in the bleachers to watch. It wasn't near as often that he watched other people play soccer as he played the game himself.

It was relaxing, honestly. He sat in the sunshine, his sunglasses hiding his brown eyes from the true color of the field and players. But it helped him see against the blaring "gold" and white of the uniforms, and he had to wonder why they practiced in uniform other than numbers and names.

But that wasn't his problem. It had rained recently, and a more pressing matter to the freshman was the fact that the metal bleachers had not dried off yet, even though it was rather sunny, and sitting on the cold steel made his butt completely and totally soaked. "Awh, crap," he muttered, slightly embarrassed as he stood up as soon as he realized. Now he just looked dumb, and it was even worse since Catalina and her teammates had been watching and now were laughing, though he wasn't sure whether it was at him or her, as she ran a hand through her hair as he had noticed she tended to do when she was embarrassed.

He wished he could hear. But he couldn't, so he just gave up, leaning on the railing of the bleachers, which was not wet. How odd.

A whistle blew, and the team lined up, listening to the coach yell at them for a few minutes, then the team tittered at something someone said. Manuel found a part of him wishing he could be down there. He almost wished something would go wrong with a player, like slipping in the mud, but he wasn't a bad guy. He'd not ever wish someone to get hurt.

Aside from the damn coach at the school, just- Ugh. His blood boiled, and his hands tightened into fists, gritting his teeth.

He missed the whistle, sending the team running on their warm-up. Manuel was too busy being furious again. But as the whistle blew again and the group sped up, he noticed, then lifted his head, watching curiously. It was a slightly different warm-up than he did on his own or with Antonio, and paying close attention, he tried to commit everything to memory.

Augh. Antonio. He bit his cheek, resting his chin on his hand and shifting his weight. He'd really been an asshole, and though he'd received texts from his "brother", he'd not answered any of them. Sure, they'd had tiffs before, but he was particularly irritated this time. It wasn't fair, and he knew it, and he knew Antonio knew it.

He didn't trust the Vargas brothers, and he didn't trust the coach.

There was a shriek on the field, and he looked up to see people dogpiling on top of some poor person who wasn't even visible anymore, and he laughed, a grin pulling his lips up crookedly. They got off just as quickly as they'd piled though, and he saw that Cata was the poor kid on bottom, just laying there and coughing or something for a moment before sitting up dizzily, then starting to laugh as she fell backwards.

Elite team, yeah right. They were all just a bunch of goofballs. Manuel chuckled to himself, watching as Cata stood up and looked down at her jersey. The others started to chant something, laughing.

And then she just pulled the damn thing up and over her head.

At first he thought she didn't have anything but a bra underneath, and he panicked internally, but then her tank top fell back down and he took a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands; He hated being a teenager. Jeez, this was awful.

On the field, Catalina laughed as her friends shrieked again, and jogging over to drop her now mud-coated jersey on her bag, she glanced at Manuel. "Hey, kiddo, you okay?" He only nodded weakly, and she grinned, going all the way over to the bleachers and climbing up so she stood precariously on the edge, holding onto the rail. "I can ask coach if you can play, if you want. You have shorts with you, right?"

"Yeah, I do," he mumbled, uncovering his face. "So is stripping in public a normal thing?" She blinked for a moment, then laughed loudly. "What are you laughing about?"

"Just- Stripping!" she laughed, and dropping down to the ground, she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Manny, we're secretly a strip club." Shaking her head, she lifted her hands to her hair and tied it back. "I'm sorry if your freshman eyes aren't ready for a bit of skin, kiddo, but this is high school and you just called a teacher a whore, so you're a-okay and on the track for the team!"

Giggling, she ran back out to the field and talked to some guy, tall and lean and kind of intimidating, and when she did, he laughed loudly, pulling off his jersey and starting to dance, much to the amusement of everyone. Even Manuel had to laugh, odd as it was. The guy had seemed so stoic, too, with his spiky hair and serious face, and he seemed almost familiar, with a funky scarf even though it was like, seventy degrees out in the Arizona sunshine.

Then again, he knew that this team was the most un-stoic team in the history of soccer, now. It was almost a comforting thing, and suddenly he felt like maybe if he could somehow become one of the team, he could be friends with them.

That would be such a change, and he'd have friends other than the girls that always followed after him and Antonio to talk to and hang out with. What a novel thought.

"That'd be pretty cool, to be their friends," he mumbled quietly. "That'd be a good way to get out of the house." Manuel, stop talking to yourself.

Elite Soccer Team, not unless they were playing. Suddenly, the whole group was in serious mode, following two sharp screeches of the coach's whistle. The group split into two, half of them going to the far side of the field and taking positions, sparse as they were, and the other half, including Catalina and the formerly stoic-looking guy who'd shucked off his shirt and still had to put it back on, came to the side closer. Peering out there, he could see that Diego, the goalie that was so good, was on Cata's side.

This was interesting, as Catalina's whole side shucked their shirts off, the girls remaining in tank tops and the boys completely shirtless. It was like shirts and skins, he realized, then chuckled. How odd. Most soccer teams he knew just gave the group a second jersey to go over, with a different color like red or green or blue or yellow, sometimes black. But no, this was certainly a different group completely.

The mud, though, was ridiculous, and he could see some of them sliding in the watery dirt. How bizarre, and some of them seemed to think so, too. But it didn't stop them, and the coach walked to the very center, on the line, holding up a soccer ball. There was a deal going on in the center, and Catalina grinned, shifting her weight.

Then the coach dropped the ball, and the mini-match was on, shirts versus skins, ridiculous as it was. Manuel watched with interest, a smile growing on his face. He'd forgotten how much fun it was to watch soccer, and not play it. The ball got to Catalina and the other defender and Diego, and Catalina went down, sliding, and the ball went straight into the net, Diego down as well.

Catalina got up and dusted off, but Diego didn't.

Diego rolled over and groaned loud enough that Manuel could hear it from the bleachers. Concerned, the Mexican stood up properly, frowning. That was clearly not a-okay. He didn't hesitate, jumping down from the bleachers and running out to the field. There was this urge he'd always had to help a guy out, and make sure someone who fell was all right. "What happened?" he asked Catalina as he reached the goal. "Didn't get bit by something, did you?"

Diego groaned and shook his head. "Think I landed funky, my ankle hurts like Satan's ass," he grumbled. "Owwwwww."

Cata looked at Manny, and he tried to ignore the dubious look on her face. He knew what she was thinking and he almost wanted to laugh because this was so ridiculous. "So Manny. Let's see if we can help Diego to the bleachers or something, yeah?"

The freshman nodded, and together, the brunettes helped the large Cuban to the bleacher steps, at which point he waved them off, and pointed at Manuel. "Hey, kiddo. You good at goalie?"

Manny shifted a bit, glancing at Cata. "Uh... I guess I am a bit, why?"

"You're skins goalie now." And Diego flopped back to laze on the stairs, then pressed his lips together. "This is uncomfortable. Just like my bed. I think I'll go to sleep. Have fun."

And just like that, Manuel was playing with the elites.


	4. Chapter Three

Manny was surprised, to say the absolute least. Play for Diego? He'd never do so well, really-

But he found himself shirtless and in the goalie's spot soon enough, and having a great time. And it was fun. As much as the Mexican loved to watch soccer, he loved to play it more. He was careful to not slip like Diego had, but some of the shots were just plain crazy, and he fell multiple times. However, this was soccer. There was a supreme amount of no trying if the goalie didn't fall.

So Manuel fell, but he prevented the goal several times. In the end, it was the shirts team that lost, and as soon as everyone had all had a nice big group hug and high fives, practice had ended. Manny hadn't even noticed that two hours had passed since they'd arrived. Incredible, but now it seemed he'd played his temper away. He didn't mind as the rest of the team clapped him on the back and gave him high fives, but kept tabs on the coach. Coach didn't make any moves.

Soon enough, Manuel and Cata were back in her car, laughing about some plays and how the stoic guy, who Manny had learned his name was Arjan de Vries, had shucked off his jersey, but left the scarf. Where did someone find a scarf in Arizona, anyways? They decided he must have bought it from Target or something, when he lived up in Idaho or Montana or somewhere like that.

"So the party is at Luco's house this time," she explained as she followed someone out of the parking lot of the sports complex. "But he's broke and his parents are down in Peru or something like that. So we all have to bring food, and I think we should leave early before they bust open some liquor cabinet and screw each other over." Manuel nodded. "So have you got any idea for food we can get at Sam's Club under twenty bucks that won't make the two of us look like total cheapskates?"

"Don't they usually have some hot food table thing, with barbequed chicken and potato salad and soups?"

They debated pros and cons of bringing hot food to a party right after practice, and in the end, Cata sent a text to Luco that they would be bringing dessert. They picked up a few boxes of cookies and a loaf of bread, then went on their merry way through checkout after talking back to the self-checkout computer. Who didn't talk back to the dumb thing, anyways?

This was so mundane, it was ridiculous. If the freshman wasn't so unsure about Catalina's reactions, he might have tried to give her a hug or something, just to joke around, but he wasn't sure if she would snap or something. It was actually rather strange that her temper hadn't made a play of its own today. Maybe it was just because it was the start of the season.

But he didn't make a move, except to follow her back out to the curb in peaceful silence. "So I guess I haven't really paid attention much, but how are you?" he asked, putting the food in his lap as he sat down. His food. The others would be lucky if it made it to the house.

Cata blinked at him, starting the car. "I'm fine. Are you? Your mom still out of it?" Manny nodded a bit. "Positive?" He nodded again.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm fine~" he laughed. "My lips might not be, wanna check?" he teased, and Cata rolled her eyes.

"No thanks, little boy. That would be robbing a cradle, because you'd always want more after the first." She grinned, pulling out of their spot and taking off towards Luco's house. "Call me when you're sixteen."

"I'll be sure to do that," he snickered. "If only to make an old lady like you think you're still desirable."

Cata reached over and patted his thigh, clicking her tongue. "Trust me, I'll be way more desirable than you." Laughing quietly to herself, she pulled into a neighborhood of rather nice houses, though not mansions or something. "Stay away from any booze they might decide to pull out or I'm not driving you home."

Manuel nodded, uninterested in drinking anyways. His grandfather had given him some of his drink a couple times, and he hated the taste of each of them. So he was fine, picking up the cookies and leaving the bread, as she said she was saving it for later.

Walking up the the front door, they were greeted by Diego (who was suspiciously not limping or looking injured at all) and taken to the spacious living room, where they were the last to arrive, and Cata was not the only one who had brought an extra. In Manny's pocket, his phone vibrated, and pulling it out to glance at it, he grimaced. Incoming Text From: Toni blared at him from the device, and rather than read it, he pressed the 'dismiss' button, and dropped it back in his pocket.

And then Manny sat down and started making friends with the other teenagers, enjoying himself. Catalina sat on the back of the couch that he picked, and between the two of them caused a bunch of laughter, indeed little doofuses.

The party went uneventfully, to be completely honest. However, Luco did indeed bust into the liquor cabinet, at which point Cata, Manny, and Arjan each made their exits, as well as a few others. It was clear to see that the night wouldn't end well for some but would for a couple.

Cata drove the young Mexican home, and then left with a "better see you tomorrow, kiddo". Manny watched her turn around the corner, then headed up the steps to the dark house of his grandparents, where he and his mother still lived. She just couldn't move away, and Manny didn't think she'd do well with that, anyways.

Manuel slipped into the house quietly, making sure not to slam the door shut. It looked like Nana had fallen asleep on the couch while she was watching TV, and he sighed quietly, looking in the kitchen and the other rooms to see if his grandfather and mother were awake. It didn't seem that way, so he lightly put his backpack on his bed before going back down to his abuela and waking her up, murmuring quietly. "Let's get you to bed, abuela," he told her, helping her up and to her room. He couldn't just let her sleep on the couch, because then she'd have problems the next day. She was getting really old, now, and it was concerning. At least she wasn't having health problems... Yet.

The boy got his elderly grandmother to bed and made sure she was all right and that his grandfather had not awoken. After discovering that they were both quite asleep, he slipped out of their room to his own, clicking the door shut as quiet as humanly possible. Flicking on the lights, he picked up his backpack and moved it to his desk, finally pulling out his phone.

"So you've left me hanging here for eight hours and just now are going to look at my texts." Manuel nearly shrieked, jumping at the sound of Antonio's voice coming from his bed. He hadn't even looked, but yes, there was the angry-looking Spanish teenager, his green eyes narrowed and glaring at him. Yes, Antonio did look angry indeed.

"Excuse me for being busy, Toni!" he hissed. "What are you even doing in my room?"

"I said I was going to your house after school," Antonio said flatly. "I said it at the wall this morning, I said it to you in the lunch line, I sent you a text when I got on your bus and you didn't come. I've been texting you for hours. Just look."

Manuel glowered at the other, finally opening his phone and reading through the texts.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Hermano, I'm going to your house after school still, right?

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Why aren't you on the bus? Are you sick?

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Manuel, answer your phone.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Manuel, what is this about a date?

Incoming Text From: Toni  
I'm waiting.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
I'm not going anywhere, I'll just sit right here until you get here.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Still here.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
If you don't come back by midnight I'm staying all night long.

Incoming Text From: Toni  
Thirty minutes until you can't get rid of me.

**** He'd just recieved the last as he walked in. Now it was 11:50 at night, and he was really, really glad he didn't have the paper route tomorrow. "I was busy. And for all you knew, my phone might have been dead." Manuel wasn't in the mood for this, he'd felt so good walking in.

"Yes, that's true, but considering I saw it was fully charged when you had it out on the bus this morning, and you rarely text, I didn't think it was." Apparently Antonio wasn't in the mood for this. "And now I hear you had a date, as of this afternoon, but you and I were going to hang out after school today, and we always do this. What happened to brothers, huh?"

"That's what I want to know!" he snapped. "You're so busy with girls and all your other friends, making teams whenever you even look at them, and I've been left on my own! Why can't I have my own friends and hang out with them, huh?" He knew he was raising his voice, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. "Look, I forgot, okay, and my phone was on silent during school. I met a friend at the coffee shop and then we went and played soccer. Is that so bad? No, I don't think so!"

Antonio frowned. "So that was your date? You had coffee and then went and played soccer? Manny, you do that all the time. With me."

"That's not important, and no, it wasn't a date, wherever you heard that from." Antonio rolled his eyes. "Look, Toni, I don't care. I don't even want to talk right now, and you're in the way of my bed."

Toni didn't move. "So what? I'm trying to be a friend and you won't let me. Who was it, huh?"

Manny narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. "That's none of your business."

"The way you're acting makes me think otherwise. It's definitely my business, since you're keeping a secret. We swore not to do that, Manuel."

"It's definitely not your business, and you still never explained how you got in, though it looks like you climbed in my window, by the fact the screen is right there." Manuel nodded at the screen of his window, resting up against his bed. "It's too late to talk about this. Go home."

"I'm not leaving. Not until you tell me." Huffing, Antonio stretched across Manuel's bed. "Who was it? Was it a lady or a guy?"

Manuel grit his teeth. "It was Cata, okay? Happy?"

Antonio sat up, staring at him. "You went and played soccer with Catalina Verardi?" He seemed shocked, and somehow it just bothered Manuel more. "That's not even cool, she had practice today! She skipped Elites practice to play with you!"

"Don't act so shocked. She didn't skip practice." Manuel fought to keep a smirk off his face. This was something he had over Antonio, and Toni knew it as his eyes grew wide.

"Dios mio, you played soccer with the whole team?" If he were a girl, Antonio might have squealed and jumped up and down. He still might have, if he weren't aware that they were the only two awake in the house. "Did you try out?"

Manuel shook his head. "Today was the first day of practice, of course not. But I played, because Diego fell funny. So whatever. It was a one-time thing. It wasn't even a real practice, really." He would have said that they were all ridiculous goofballs, but... He wanted to keep that secret. It seemed like it was just something that he ought not share.

"Oh my gosh, that's insane!" Antonio laughed, his expression brilliant. "You have to te-"

"No," Manny cut off the other. "I won't tell you. Cata made me promise. So go home and get sleep, you have practice tomorrow." Antonio tried to protest, but he picked up the other's bag and shoved it into his hands. "Go away."

The Spaniard pouted a bit, but standing up, he opened the window behind him. "You're going to tell me sometime." He sounded so confident, and it was ridiculous. Stepping out of the window, Antonio fell to the ground with a crunch of rock and sand underfoot, then skulked away, turning homeward.

Manuel glowered after him, replacing the screen in his window and leaving it open. It was too hot in his room right now, and he wasn't sure if it was just him or if the house itself was hot. Picking up his water bottle, he took a long drink and finished the warm water, grimacing slightly. Warm water was just so different from cold, fresh water.

Oh well. Getting changed and ready for bed, he closed the curtains and set his alarm, then shut off the light and slipped into bed, irritated by the warm spot where Antonio had been sitting. He doubted he'd even moved a muscle.

Manuel was frustrated, with himself, with Antonio, with soccer, with school. He wished that there would just be a great big monsoon and it would pick up the school, carry it down to Sonora, Mexico, and just drop it there, leaving the whole student body delightedly school-less. Of course, maybe some people would be displeased, but he bet that the middle of nowhere in Mexico would love to have such a well-furnished school all of a sudden, and god, he needed to sleep.

Closing his eyes, Manuel thought for a while, not even noticing when his thoughts started to turn fuzzy around the edges and get a bit more surreal. It was silly, really, but at some point, his brain finally stopped thinking and he fell completely asleep, nice and empty thoughts all that was there. Nothing about the elite team and how suspicious it was that Diego didn't seem hurt at all, nothing about Antonio and his dumb face and pesky texts, nothing about how nice Cata had been or how dumb Luco had to be about drinking while his parents weren't home.

None of that was his problem, his problem was that stupid warm spot and that was it. Sweet dreams, Manuel.


End file.
